


That Awful Sound

by BB_Glitz



Series: I Wore Black and He Wore White [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: I Will Go Down With This Ship, It grew Feelings, M/M, Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU, OTP: Catch These Hands, This was supposed to be cute and silly, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9113911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BB_Glitz/pseuds/BB_Glitz
Summary: Loyalty until the end is what they promised.But to whom are they loyal?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [azande](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azande/gifts).



> Title taken from the song "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" by Cher
> 
> Inspired by the cover by Daniela Andrade

On a day like this, they sit and watch each other intently.

Only the sound of breakfast being shared passes between them.

Pitchers, bowls, and saucers scrape across the wood grain after being picked up and put down again.

As the years pass, the silence simply expands with the things they hold close to their hearts.

James’ quiet grows thicker after he comes from a business trip.

Casual touch has ceased between them.

James flinches as if burned.

So T’Challa stops trying to maintain what little physical connection they have.

\-----------------------

They dress in the shared closet.

A whisper of silk wrapping around fine cotton greets T’Challa’s ears.

His hearing is sharper than that of most people.

“Dinner’s at seven,” T’Challa finds himself saying.

James simply nods when their eyes meet in the mirror.

T’Challa bites down on the resigned sigh that longs to escape.

\---------------------

_The pair stumbles over the threshold of their little hole in the wall apartment._

_The faucet leaks._

_The paint peels in every room._

_There’s an odor that arises every few weeks from 3H across the hall that Bucky’s afraid to ask the landlord about._

_The warped hardwood makes tripping an easy thing----but it’s all theirs for better or for worse._

_Bucky and T’Challa gladly kiss and caress and fuck so slowly that it could be called lovemaking except for its intensity._

_They roll across their bed---or the floor if desperation clutches them---as if they’re trying to climb into each other’s skin._

_Bucky wonders about it._

_Then it’s suddenly so simple._

_They’re happy._  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

That was the beginning.

Now...something stale welcomes them home when they greet each other in a chaste kiss.

They kiss like a requisite hand shake before a meeting.

An acknowledgement of presence.

A polite necessity.

Nothing more.

James flees to his study to finish some reports before he leaves for the office.

T’Challa steals away to the kitchen and enters the pantry.

He glances left and right in the pantry doorway.

He listens for James’ careful steps.

Nothing.

He keys a 12-digit code into the pad beneath the shelf farthest from the door.

T’Challa grabs a glock and a set of daggers from the weapons cache behind the wall of cast-iron pots.

They meet again in the mudroom.

Another civil press of lips before they leave for jobs they don’t actually do.

 


End file.
